


Makeshift Gauge

by birdsandivory



Series: A Klance Study [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: +1 Fic, Established Relationship, Introspection, M/M, awkward hand holding, i wrote this in five minutes, keith is a bedtime snuggler obviously, kisses and cuddling, klance, lance is an affectionate guy, not really but it felt like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-21 02:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16568066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsandivory/pseuds/birdsandivory
Summary: Keith's not much of a hand-holder, not really an 'arm around the waist' kind of guy; he keeps to himself and saves the mushy stuff for when he really means it. Long embraces and physical affection just aren't his thing.That all goes straight out the spacecraft when he and Lance go to sleep at night.





	Makeshift Gauge

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like this! It's a short little thing I had to get out of my system last night, but I think it added up well, and it's pretty cute.
> 
> I based this prompt off of the line: "And I'll use you as a makeshift gauge - of how much to give and how much to take," from I Found by Amber Run.

Keith doesn’t like to hold hands.

Or rather, it isn’t that he doesn’t _like_ to, but after a moment of having his fingers wrapped around Lance’s — his own begin twitching. He wiggles them, like he’s uncomfortable, shifting his weight as if everyone’s watching him. And then, he pulls away, crossing his arms over his chest, looking anywhere but the newly appointed red paladin.

Lance remembers when it used to bother him, when he first began reaching for those gloved hands and how they always flinched at the slightest bit of intimate contact. It used to hurt, but then he remembers that it’s Keith, and his hands — though separated from the world by worn out leather — are always used to heal. He learns to appreciate the moments they’re alone more because of it, times when no one is watching or _not_ watching, and shy fingers make their way to _his_ instead.

It’s not a bad thing — the lack of Keith’s touch — he thinks; sometimes the absence of it makes him grow fonder.

Aside from that, the black paladin isn’t accustomed to the warmth of arms around him, either.

He openly partakes in hugs when it suits him, of course; Keith has hugged Shiro dozens of times, the pain of missing the man as his brother driving the need to feel that he’s real in his hands. And he’s wrapped both arms around Pidge so tightly after not seeing her for so long, they both could barely breathe, the others joining in one by one for a collective embrace. He’s even had the pleasure of being squeezed by Hunk, never shirking at the physical contact.

Lance knows it’s different with him.

He knows that Keith is aware that they’re holding each other when they hug, that it’s no longer ‘friendly,’ that it’s something more than a quick pat on the back he’s shared with the rest of their team on numerous occasions. When he puts his arms around the man, there’s no immediate comfort, only a moment of rigidness that goes on for too long before he finally, _finally_ melts against him.

Keith isn’t really much of a kisser, furthermore; not that he doesn’t plant one on him here and there.

There are moments, few, where he gives Lance a peck if he asks — and will do so on his own if he’s over-dramatizing an injury or after they’ve said their _goodnights_ to each other. They’re quick, short, chaste, and simple. He doesn’t care so much when Keith denies him another, especially when it’s accompanied by a coy comeback to his protests. Their leader is surprisingly flirtatious, even if he isn’t too keen on PDA.

In fact, it’s because of this that he actually gets excited when it comes to those missions that keep them from one another for weeks on end, or when Keith has a job to do with the Blades, because when they _do_ see each other again — he can laugh at the way the paladin pulls at his collar and smacks one on him, long and sweet. It’s rare, but he likes to think he’s earned it, and maybe that helps him get past all the small things.

Sometimes, he just gets really lucky and the man is in a mood. Lance, despite how much he likes the soft and tender trappings of their relationship, is always up for an angry make out session.

So, maybe when it comes to kisses, he doesn’t have much to complain about.

Above all, however — the hand holding, the hugs, the kisses — Keith is no snuggler.

When they sit next to each other, whether in his bed or the small couch they’re provided in one of the Castle’s common rooms, their shoulders brush, their legs touch — but there’s no affectionate cuddling, no squishing themselves under the same blanket. Occasionally, Keith reaches up to brush a wayward lock of hair out of Lance’s face if it’s bothering him, or throws his legs over the former blue paladin’s thighs before explaining that it’s because his feet hurt and they’re better off _‘elevated’_ — to which he doesn’t really mind, fingers pressing into muscular calves.

He knows it isn’t _him_ , not in particular, just the word ‘boyfriend’ — the term ‘partner’ — that’s been his tacked on title for a while now.

Lance knows Keith isn’t embarrassed, nor is he afraid — he’s not the type to shy away from the words _‘I love you,’_ or the freedom of saying what’s on his mind and how he feels. Keith, for all he is, just doesn’t like physical contact that he doesn’t deem necessary. He doesn’t like a hug that doesn’t mean he misses someone, or holding hands if he’s not wanting of reassurance; he gives and he takes just what he needs.

Nothing more and nothing less.

All of that goes straight out the spacecraft when they go to sleep at night.

He and Keith fall into slumber face to face, though mostly, he’s out way before the black paladin. And when he wakes every few hours, he often thanks whatever deity is watching over him every night, because he quickly discovers that the man is a giant cuddle bug when he’s out like a light — often wrapped around him and clinging as though he’s afraid to let go.

His breaths are quiet and he looks terribly soft, peaceful without his usual hard expression pinching his brows and making him frown. If Lance happens to move out of place, a bit too far and out of reach, Keith rolls over and nestles into his side before he can blink. Arms are around him like a vice, unrelenting, desperate; he loves it, the little bit of indulgence he’s rewarded with when the other isn’t conscious to shy away.

Lance never brings it up, maybe because he’s worried that Keith will become more aware of himself, but if he’s honest — there’s joy in having a small known fact to himself.

The black paladin is a _bedtime cuddler_.

Just thinking about it makes him giddy.

He shifts in his seat.

“Stop smiling like that, it’s creepy.” The object of his affections gripes, throwing himself next to him on the sofa per usual, hooking a leg over his knee as he gives Lance a suspicious look. “What are you making that face for?”

With a laugh, he reaches up and over the man’s head to place an arm around Keith’s shoulders, which is immediately shrugged off, though half-heartedly.

“Oh, nothing,” Lance smiles, “nothing at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me on Tumblr! I am [birdsandivory](http://birdsandivory.tumblr.com).


End file.
